Wings
by Haraya
Summary: When blades are sheathed for the final time and the Titan steam clears forever, Armin, Mikasa and Eren think back on their formerly imprisoned lives and look to a future of liberty in a grim and hazy present. They are nothing short of terrified. Triptych oneshots. Complete. Rating for language.
1. Flutter

**Author's Note**: I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin or any of its respective characters and am in no ways affiliated with its creator, Isayama Hajime-sensei, bless him. These stories are written for entertainment purposes only and I am in no way profiting from them in any financial terms whatsoever. This will be a triptych of individual stories set in chronological order, each told in the perspective of each of the Shiganshina trio members.

I wrote the first two chapters ages before Chapter 54 and 55 came out which I guess is more than enough to explain government-involved situations. I'm as lazy as a teenager in the heat of a tropical summer sun could get so…

Some Headcanon to assist in reading this (or not – Spoilers Alert!): Erwin dies (sorry, I like him a lot [do you know he's actually based on a Watchmen character!?] but unfortunately, I like lemony plot twists more because as proven by indulging in the Levetra fandom [I REGRET NOTHING], there're no such things as overly-abused feels) on the way to The Basement (which contains several samples of the Titan-Shifting serum Eren's father used on Eren and exact instructions on how to make them, along with the rest of the stolen memories that he didn't inject into his son [see his "Their memories will help you..." speech on Episode 2 and the girl Eren sees in the mirror on Chapter 53 who suspiciously looks like the woman who took Historia's memories on Chapter 54]. Of course, Reiner and Bertolt had already taken and destroyed them before Squad Levi arrived: thanks for the terrific induction speech, Danchou! They had, however, left the formula for the antidote untouched [I'm still coming up with a reason why] and the Recon Corps, specifically Hange, took advantage of this) and Hange (who dies in the Last Battle – yes, I love her to bits but sacrifices must be made for changes to take place and no, I'm not this heartless in real life, trust me) pressures Levi (I'm sparing him so kindly cancel any plans you have that involve killing me in the slowest way possible) to fill the Commander's boots on their return.

Levi takes Armin (whom they would later on unanimously elect as the leader of the former Special Ops Squad now the Exploration Squad – Levi joins them of course, they're his family [I want there to be a chapter and/or, preferably and, episode where he cries it all out and after that, I wanna freakin' drown him in happiness because this man deserves it more than words could ever say]) with him as his squad's Chief Counselor (because Armin Arlert deserves hundred times more the appreciation he is currently receiving) but everyone else stays on the former Squad Levi, now Squad Mikasa (because who else should take charge of a group whose mission is to keep Eren from getting a single scratch on him?). Jean is Vice-Captain, in case Mikasa-heichou (dang, that sounds good!) ever gets too fond of and/or loses her head over Eren in a mission.

Mikasa gets injured in rescuing Levi in the Last Battle against Annie the same way Levi got injured rescuing Mikasa in their First Expedition against Annie (because I believe in destiny), only she injures both legs (he on the other hand loses an arm like Erwin in pushing her away from danger) which explains why she's in crutches (don't worry, she'll get better; Levi gets a left arm made of steel). Also Ymir got hurt real badly in protecting Historia and she was mistakenly shot with the antidote before she had enough time to heal.

* * *

**Flutter**

Armin gulped dryly, trying not to let his fingers inch their way upwards to loosen the collar of his shirt which was starting to stick to his neck in nervous sweat. They were standing at the gate of Shiganshina, the one that Bertolt had broken down with a single kick almost six years ago, changing everybody's lives forever. Behind Armin was a swarm of commoners who had been whispering diabolically to one another as the traitors made their way to the gate and were now watching them a good distance away with taut, nervous anticipation. Across him were the Shifters who had infiltrated the wall five years ago; facing them with equal silence and standing next to him were his comrades, grim and rigid. The stuffy mid-afternoon air dripped with tension. Everything about this, from the heat of the sun to the expressions of the people in front of him to how tense everyone beside him was only reflected the mantra that had been going on his head ever since they had agreed to do this: _This is a bad idea._

He swallowed as quietly as he could, trying to moisten his dry, dry throat and to distract himself from the murmurs of the crowd and the suffocating atmosphere, he looked to his right over Levi's head to take a glance at Eren.

His best friend stood stiff and still, his would have been respectful posture betrayed by his clenched fists, which were shaking violently in restraint which Armin was sure wouldn't even be there if the brunet only had his way. His nails dug to the palm of his hands so hard that they were bleeding and, as if Eren suddenly found a way to pluck mental suggestions of the people around him out of the air, Armin tried hard not to think if he was doing it so that he could transform in a matter of seconds to crush the people in front of him or if it was just a way to vent out his wrath. Passionate emerald orbs eyed the vicinity with a burning hot, almost tangible hatred that could make anybody run for the hills in seconds. Armin prayed that Eren would hold on to his sanity for just a little longer.

Besides Eren stood Mikasa, and although he couldn't see her past Eren, Armin knew what she looked like: straight as a pin even in crutches and only years of knowing her would have made her clouded obsidian eyes make sense to an observer. Her lips were surely set tight over stiffly clenched teeth and her fists were balled and set, ready to let fly a punch whenever needed. These were the people, after all, who made Eren hurt so much, who took almost everything away from him and whatever it was that discomforted her Eren would always end up as bloody pulp in her hands. Her glare would be mostly fixed on Annie, always returning to her after its periodical rovings and again, Armin tried hard not to read into his theories too much although there was a 90% chance that this was all true.

Next to Mikasa was Sasha who was undoubtedly not angered, but confused as she stared at the people who had been a part of her life as a Trainee, the ones she worked on group activities with, the ones she dined with, the ones she shared the little triumphs, pains and joys of daily life with for two years, who, just six months ago, revealed themselves to be murderers. After the initial negotiations, Armin had explained to Levi and Squad Mikasa two nights ago that it wasn't their fault, that they had been forcibly torn away from their families and weren't allowed to return until they had Eren, that they truly didn't want to hurt anyone, they just wanted to go home. He knew they understood, but weren't emotionally ready to, and although he tried his very best, he was as just as lost in the dark as they were.

Connie stood next to Sasha and Armin knew he was the most conflicted: he had anger, he had pain, he had confusion and he couldn't decide which of these were to reign his heart. There was rage for the ones responsible for his family's death, there was hurt for the two years he spent with friends who suddenly revealed themselves to be the cause of humanity's misery and then there was the plain confusion on why he wasn't able to hate them even though he was supposed to. Why did it have to be them and us, he had asked after Armin's explanation. Why did they have to be the ones who were forced to do things against their will and why was everyone forced to choose between who was more important among their loved ones? Nobody had answered him. No one knew how.

To Armin's left stood Historia, staring straight ahead with her thoughts far, far away from the people in front of her. He had a fierce battle against the majority of the populace at court just yesterday to stop Shifter prosecution, suggesting the relocation of the Shifters (save for Eren who defeated the Ape Titan with his bare hands) and that a member of each side would no longer be allowed to coexist in a five mile radius to prevent any scuffles for the next thousand years when, hopefully, all of humanity forgets that there ever had been any Titans. Both sides agreed but when Historia learned of this, she begged him to exclude her and Ymir but there were to be no exceptions and there was nothing he could do. This was when Levi stepped up and said that Ymir was to be allowed to stay with them until her final breath, and because it was Levi, the commander who freed all of humanity, they were forced to agree. Armin was sure she was counting the seconds until she could be with Ymir and then, together, wait for the inevitable end.

On Historia's other side was Jean, silent and rigid and Armin couldn't guess what he could be thinking. He hadn't said a word since the day before yesterday, a characteristic that just wasn't Jean at all. Jean was precise and calculating: the least he could have possibly done during the writing of the treaty was to voice out what was in his head no matter how unlikely the chance that anyone was going to listen to him but he hadn't. He had stood over them like he was standing now, quiet, with a poker face Armin never knew he had but his eyes were downcast as if meeting any of his old friends' gazes would burn him. Was he hurt? Confused? Was it because he was fully aware of the two sides of the whole story along with the fact that he could accept both? Was he afraid of the fact that although unwilling to, he could? Armin didn't know. He wasn't sure he wanted to.

And to Armin's right was Levi, still straight and stiff and formal, still unreadable, still overflowing with self-control. At least Armin hoped that he was. In the six months that he had been a part of his squad, Levi kept proving himself surprising and the younger man had long given up on trying to know all there was to him. But the fact that he was in front of the Shifters, the traitors, the _enemy_– the people who robbed him of his loved ones and his people – that alone was more than enough to make Armin start choking from the tension. His Danchou had self-control, sure, but what if, after years and years of holding it all in and suppressing his emotions, he snapped? Another war would start and then what? He wasn't sure if he was just imagining that the air around him was getting colder and heavier by the second, only magnifying how hot and dry his throat felt.

It had been the king's orders that the soldiers, especially the remaining members of the Recon Corps, were to be present at the send-off to ensure that there were no hard feelings and to settle any old grudges between the two camps. _As if_he_had any grudges_, Armin thought miserably. _As if_he_lost anything important to him, as if_he_had to choose who he could save, as if_he _ever experienced any of our pain or theirs…_It wasn't a common occurrence for him to badmouth authorities even in his head but after everything he had been through, after all the terror, all the Titans, all the corpses he had to deal with, it was difficult not to. _The king wears no clothes._He had raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side the first time he heard his grandfather tell the tale but now that he understood what it meant, he wondered if banning the ancient stories, the ones that were older than the Walls, had anything to do with the royalties.

Besides, what were they expecting? A group hug? A teary farewell with promises of a picnic reunion in a meadow full of flowers and butterflies and sunshine in a few year's time? How naïve could the government possibly get, to think that this would be easy for any of them, the soldiers, the victims, the survivors of a loveless war? Armin thought that he and the others would be lucky if they got out of there alive: the best condition they could be in after the other side's departure would probably be mangled with deep cuts and black eyes, the ground slick and red with blood from both sides.

_Well, look at the bright side,_he thought. _At least Eren hasn't opened his mouth yet._His fingers flexed with tension at the very thought, more than ready to clamp a hand over his best friend's mouth at a moment's notice.

They had been given ten minutes before the gates were to open and shut but five have already passed and still no one had moved a muscle. _Only five more to go_, he thought, five more and then they would be spared from all their misery. Five more and he would never see them again but was that a good thing? He wanted to talk to them, to assure them that they were forgiven, to get rid of the dark weight on his heart, to know for sure that they would get the happiness they undoubtedly deserved.

There was a shout from behind them and before he knew what was going on, a child had pushed her way between their legs and ran to the other side. He moved reflexively, lunging his arms forward to stop her but it was too late. She was running, running beyond the front line of the people in front of them to someone in the middle of the cluster and now she leapt forward, wrapping her arms around the neck of a Shifter boy, probably no more than twelve years old, who cradled her in his arms as she cried. "Nii-san, don't leave me! You can't go, you can't, you just can't!"

Nothing else existed except the girl, her wails painfully piercing the air, and the dark-haired young man, stroking her short blond hair, tears dripping on his face. "Nii-san needs to go now," he muttered, and Armin thought he felt something stab at his chest. "Big brother needs to go to keep Rosie safe."

"But it's not fair!" she protested, pounding on his shoulders with all her might, her screams getting shriller and louder. "It's not fair! You promised you'll always be there for me, you promised!" He buried his face in her hair and whispered things that only she could hear and in seconds, she quieted down but the spasms of pain that racked her shoulders didn't lessen.

Soon enough, a few drops, a trickle, and then an entire stream of people moved forward, some cautiously, some eagerly, to say their final goodbyes to the people who had been a part of them. Couples embraced each other for the last time. Friends clapped each other on the shoulders struggling to hold back the tears. A child clung to his sobbing mother, making her promise him sweets and toys when she came back. Armin wanted to join them, to say sorry, to thank, to wish them luck in the next stage of their life, but his feet felt like lead and his head was a dizzy whirl. None of the three people he knew among the Shifters made any action to indicate they noticed the sudden change of the crowd surrounding them and time was running out.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't notice Eren move forward, stopping exactly halfway between his side and theirs. Armin held his breath, his mind racing to think of what it was Eren was going to say and the possible words he could use to counter them but they were inexplicably replaced with a panicked _Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no, don't say anything Eren, shut up, please__just__shut up, oh no, oh no, oh no._The distant rumbling of the voices around them faded into nonexistence until there was nothing but Eren's clear, steady voice. "Bertolt," he said. "The last time we talked, I promised that I would kill you in the slowest, most painful way possible."

Everything that went whizzing through Armin's head at a million miles a second came to a standstill as time started to blur and curve around Eren's words. For a moment, he was grateful that none of them had their 3DMG on, but his momentary comfort was squelched when he remembered the way Eren had been clenching his fists. Time stood perfectly still and he was vaguely aware of his taut muscles, tense and fueled with adrenaline like never before.

And then Eren did the unthinkable. "I take it all back," he said, and his hand stretched towards Bertolt.

Armin stood there, the impact of what Eren said knocking the air off his lungs leaving him dizzy but his shock surely was nothing compared to Bertolt's. Beside him, Annie eyes widened, her lips parted in shock and Reiner stared at Eren as if he had never seen him before. And then, slowly, as if in a dream, Bertolt took a step forward, and another, and another, until his hand was firmly clasped in Eren's. They wordlessly nod to each other before letting go.

_What happened?_Armin thought. _Eren... I thought... I thought..._

A flash of gold gleamed at the corner of Armin's eye and he turned his head to find Historia embracing Reiner with Sasha standing next in line. Mikasa was tersely shaking hands with Annie with Eren behind her, patiently waiting for his turn and Connie and Jean were with Bertolt, saying something about the weather and going out for drinks the next time they met. Only he and Levi stood unchanging, taking in everything in front of them.

Bertolt was one of the best among Armin's many tutored students and in exchange for an understood lesson, he would accompany Armin each time he visited the library and take out all the books he needed that happened to be placed on the high shelves; who cares if he was shy? And Reiner had been his older brother, offering help and training, doing his best not to lighten his burdens but to give him additional strength and support to help him grow on his own. And Annie… she was the one he sat next to in class and spent quiet times in the library with, the one who, although cold, was never cruel, expressing her care in a way only he had understood. They've almost never talked but they had been together and that was more than enough for him.

Before Armin knew it, she was in his arms. His feet had carried him forward and now he felt her stiffen before melting against him, wrapping him up in an equally tight embrace. He had always wanted to do that, he realized. He wanted her to feel safe and sound and now, he couldn't think of anything but being happy that from here on out, that was all there was left for his friend. There were tears in her eyes when he pulled away and something on her lips that might have been a smile. "Good luck Annie," he said. She whispered, "Thank you," and he smiled as he wiped her away tears.

He shook hands with Bertolt, telling him to take good care of Annie (and making it a point to look innocent when the latter blushed) and then with Reiner, who clapped him on the shoulder and said, "I'm proud of you, Armin."

And then, the bells began to ring. There was a short struggle, a final clinging, before everyone was forced to retreat to their respectful sides. Armin saw the three cluster together, seemingly arguing if they should or shouldn't do something. When they turned to face humanity for the final time, Annie had a bouquet of a dozen perfect white roses bunched together in a pearly white ribbon in her arms. She walked, hesitating, towards him, and he thought that the flowers were meant for him before she stopped in front of Levi.

Apparently, his Danchou's mind had been somewhere else because his head snapped up at the sight of her boots to rest, puzzled, on her gift. They were fragrant roses, the kind that actually bloomed and made you feel happy as you looked at them before having to wilt away and die and she was wordlessly giving them to him. It was obviously a peace offering but something nagged Armin at the back of his mind as to why she chose for him to have it, a doubt that he was certain shouldn't even be there in the first place. Was it because he was the captain of all soldiers, or was it because of a more personal reason, such as, perhaps, an apology, a personal one? He was an inch away from the conclusion but Levi lifted his eyes to meet her similarly grey ones and he lost it. She flinched, almost invisibly, and her gaze didn't quiver but there was a shift in the way she stood that made her look smaller as if overcome by… what? Guilt? Grief? Regret? A mixture of the three?

Levi stared at her for a few more seconds as the gates began to lift. Soon enough she will have to turn her back on them and leave forever so why wasn't he taking them yet? Armin could see her hesitate, pondering if she should turn around and walk away when Levi lifted both hands and held on to hers for a split-second before taking the roses. He bowed his head to her, and she returned the gesture and somehow, the air around them became a bit lighter, still broken, but not as heavy, not as shattered as before. Somehow they had understood each other, whatever it was that the gestures and unwavering eye contact meant, and Armin felt as if though they mutually made each others lives a little easier.

He watched them as they left, oblivious to everything else in the world but their retreating backs. And then, as if overcome by some unspoken agreement, he and his squad mates tucked their left fists behind their backs and let the right rest against their beating hearts, performing a final salute, a final goodbye to their comrades and friends.


	2. Flap

**Author's Note**: I'm very proud of this one. This was written long before the release of Chapter 54 and 55 which explains the government related thingies. Also, I assumed that everyone knew of life before the Titans and the Walls, so...

* * *

**Flap**

Intense moonlight entered the house before Mikasa did, her shadow like a hollow wound in the midst of the silvery-white wooden boards. Dust clouds rose as she carefully tiptoed in gingerly, as if afraid of waking an invisible, snoring identity that hid in the shadows. This directly took her back to seven years ago, when she would sneak out of bed to dance among the moonlit flowers in boundless ecstasy before having to creep back home and get into bed as silently as she could. Home…

Home had been a cheery little cottage in the mountains that was now a deserted wooden structure that reeked of forgetfulness and abandon. Home had been a vegetable, fruit and pleasure garden that had grown into an indistinguishable tangled mess of weeds that her horse was now dauntlessly chewing on. Home had been the warm light of the fireplace waltzing over the worn yet spotless furniture and floors; now it was the empty darkness of the night, punctuated by the dance of airborne dust in the moon's ghostly glow.

Home had been the new things her mother taught her in the kitchen and the garden, whether it be learning how to make a new dish or knowing which strawberries were the sweetest by their smell before falling into the quiet thrill of a bedtime story and a goodnight kiss at the end of the day. Home had been constantly missing her father even from his five minutes trips to the forest and running into his arms when he came back, and then, after dinner, helping him come up with names for the stars as they sat on the porch with her head on his lap, the scent of the smoke of his pipe filling her mind with peace. Now, Mikasa thought, her home was the bloodstains by the door, scarlet letters worn away by time but still present, still uncomforting, still there. She tried hard not to look at them too much.

The place was smaller than she remembered, perfectly preserved; everything, save for the fallen chair that was her mother's and her scissors, was in its proper place. Time had come to a stop and had lain a blanket of age and dust over everything. The pump that served as a faucet at the kitchen sink still dripped its freshwater tears into the metal basin. The fungus-bitten logs in the basket by the hearth sat steadfast in their places, waiting for the day they will be used. And in their room hung her mother's sketches and paintings of their happy faces, oblivious to the neglect and decay outside their frames.

Unconsciously, Mikasa's fingers grasped at the bandage on her right wrist, slipping off the safety pin with ease and unwinding of the white strip of cloth until it came off entirely and curled to sleep on the floor. The scar she shared with her mother stared her in the face. She had looked like her, her father often said, and it wouldn't be long before all the boys in town came knocking at their door, asking if they could be her lover. And when that fateful day came, Mr. Ackerman would open the door only ever so slightly and tell them, No, you may not, only I have the right to hold my ladies' hands, get off my porch before I whup you in the head with this broom, or mop, or plunger or whatever he had in his hands at the moment. And then Mikasa and her mother would laugh and Mikasa would ask questions about beauty and boys and attraction and such. She had always been asking questions. Now, one hurting, cold lifetime into the future later and still facing their pictures, she traced the outline of their sunny smiles, leaving sighs in the seven-year old settlement of dust.

The duster was where she had left it, hanging above the broom and the mop. She took a white handkerchief from the pocket of her pants, tied it around her nose and mouth and then rolled up her sleeves. Six months of being a part of Squad Levi had its benefits, she thought, as she opened the kitchen window and repeatedly ran her hand through the clumped feathers, freeing them from their prison of hardened dirt. The benefits were that the time she took to clean things were halved because she knew the best, time-saving, energy-efficient way to do each task. Levi treated cleaning like a science and had, in their free time, lectured them for hours about the proper posture for each chore, the number of buckets of water each section of the house required, how tight their hands should hold a dirty, clean, or brand new rag and other things that would seem mundane to anyone who wasn't a cleaner or a housewife.

For the next two hours, Mikasa dusted the furniture, wiped the china, cleared the chimney, flapped the sheets, beddings, blankets, pillow cases and table cloths, swept and mopped the floor, and even ran back and forth around the house with a wet rag in her hands against the floor like her mother used to do during special occasions. It was one of their family traditions and it had miffed Mikasa to see Annie do it for the first time saying that it was something everybody did in her hometown. _Our bloodline was the first to have done it,_she thought now, scrubbing the floor of the bathroom with a brush and soapy water. _Even before the Walls._She didn't know if this was actually true but she hoped it was. Knowing that somebody else had the knowledge of what was originally her mother's alone was like knowing that one of the foundations of the many things that made her up had crumbled away into nothingness forever.

It had been two days after the departure of the Shifters during which there had been nothing but rain. They had been forced to attend a lengthy, time-wasting trial on what to do with Eren and Levi as they had been responsible both for the death of hundreds of soldiers and the pending liberty of all of mankind. After numerous debates between the religious group, the merchants, the Military Police and most of the citizens against the soldiers of the two remaining factions and the remaining percent of the population, which Armin had single-handedly (if not slightly exasperatedly) fought for them, the latter part won out and they were all awarded with useless medals and titles by the king.

A war memorial had been hastily constructed in the center of what had once been the town square of Shiganshina, listing the names of all the fallen soldiers who died in all the battles ever fought against the Titans. How all the blacksmiths and the carpenters of all of mankind finished the 15-feet tall (in reference to Eren's Titan form of course) three-dimensional stone and metal statue of the Wings of Freedom in the span three days, Mikasa didn't know, but it was nevertheless impressive and those who volunteered to help build it also received honorifics. Somewhere near four in the afternoon of the day she returned home for the first time in seven years, the rain had stopped falling and it was time to dispose of the corpses of the names engraved on the wings. The families of those who had no bodies to send had reluctantly handed over their fallen member's uniform and those who did not have even that gave a token of their loved ones such as a favorite dress, perhaps, or a notebook. Five bonfires surrounded and illuminated the Wings that night and mankind's last soldiers had stood in front of them in a silent salute until the final eye was wiped, the final sob released and everybody else went home to count their tears to sleep.

When the fires had died down after three hours of burning and the streets were lifeless save for the eight figures who were left staring into the ashes, Levi commanded them to take off their jackets and 3DMG's and give them to him. It would be eight hours before they were to head outside, he said, and they might as well stop being soldiers for the rest of the night. He gave them the freedom to cry and to mourn, to haunt the memorable places in their lives for one last time before they flung themselves into the far-off heart of the world, never to return to the Walls again. There were no more Titans after all and Scouting Legion was no longer needed. Soon enough, the government will see them as a nuisance, an extra mouth to feed, and anyway there was, is and always will be, no time like the present.

The sudden decision shocked them, but only for a little while for they had, after all, spent their whole lives trapped in cages, both physical and mental. No one was bothered about indulging in freedom until their very last breath and no one said no. They would survive in the now Titan-free wilderness: Sasha will teach them how to hunt and fish, and Connie will teach them which plants were safe to gather and eat. As for shelter, clothing, and transportation, Levi had been preparing tents, carts, heavy coats and light, breezy clothing, and Historia's grandparents had agreed to supply them with ample horses. Along the way, Eren and Armin will map their paths, the trees and the animals that thrive in an area, the sights to see, the wonders to experience, which they will then periodically send to the nearest new settlement who will in turn ensure that the information will be passed on to the Inside. They will set a flag with their emblem on every new place they discover and will walk on, learn, and be together until their feet could no longer carry them, after which they will all retire someplace by the sea.

But that was for tomorrow, when they were to meet at the old cottage to pack and prepare before the sun started to rise in the east. Jean had left the earliest to say goodbye to his family. Connie and Sasha had taken for their hometowns as Historia rode North to seal the unfinished business she had with her family. Mikasa had left Eren to Armin for a while and she and Levi rode together to the west before going their separate ways. There would be time for Eren, she thought. She had a lifetime ahead of her of putting on a poker face, of resisting change, fighting oppression and struggling to survive, but that was for tomorrow. Tonight, she was just the angel of her parents who knew how to smile and laugh and talk carelessly, the wide-eyed and curious, homesick little girl who asked questions. Tonight, she was just herself without the painful past, without the battle scars, without Eren's scarf snug around her neck. Just Mikasa Ackerman with her mother's scar on her wrist.

The moon was now directly above her house and the shadows have grown larger, more menacing. She hadn't turned on the light and was proud of herself for not having to rely on it, relieved that her feet haven't forgotten their way around the place where she was born although it was undeniably a lot more cramped than the last time she had been here. The cleaning tools were in their places, happy to be of service again, the scars on the floor by the door were long gone and the place was spotless once more, ready for inhabitance. If she strained her ears enough, Mikasa was sure she could just hear her father snoring softly in his sleep and her mother muttering in her dreams beside him.

The keys were still in the loop on the hook by the door and she took them up but they didn't tingle like when she jangled them together as a child; they have rusted. She visited the bathroom, used it even, before closing the door behind her and locking it. Then she went to her and her parents' bedroom, patting the stuffed rabbit beside her pillow and creeping beneath her parents' blankets before settling between their pillows the way she used to during stormy nights. It was a lot smaller than the last time she lay there but if she curled up in the tightest little ball she could manage, she could pretend that she was still nine. She remained in the bed a bit, trying to get a whiff of her father's pipe or her mother's sweet-smelling hair but there wasn't any left: the drafts have long blown them away. She smoothed out the covers and fluffed the pillows, kissed her stuffed rabbit good night for one last time before staring at the pictures on the bedside table and the wall, holding on to the emotions each of them radiated towards her as if her life depended on it, memorizing the way her mother's mouth moved when she talked and the grin her father wore whenever he was telling a joke. And then, wordlessly, she stepped outside and locked the door.

She had promised herself one treasure to keep from the house of her memories, a little thing to look at and keep close to her heart when the nights were long and cold and the days were sad and wet. When she turned the whole place upside down to clean it earlier, she had righted the fallen chair and put the scissors her mother had used to try and defend her in the embroidery box that had belonged to _her_ grandmother's mother. Mikasa sat on her place at the table.

"Hello, Mother. Hello, Dad." The wind outside stopped blowing and the nocturnes came to a full stop. She continued.

"It's me, Mikasa. I've grown a whole lot taller and cut my hair off, but I'm still me. That day you were talking about hasn't come yet, Dad." She chuckled as she said this. She realized she missed the sensation and wondered how long it had been since the last time she did.

"When you left, I met the most wonderful boy named Eren. He is Dr. Yaeger's son and he gave me this scarf, see?" She held it up to eye level and brought it forward a bit. "He gave me warmth and a new home after I lost this one. It wasn't as nice although it was bigger but I liked it all the same, because he was with me. Mrs. Yaeger was very sweet and she taught me a lot of new things. Dr. Yaeger wasn't home often but when he was he'd tell us stories of his work in the inner walls. They were very kind and nice but I was glad they didn't make me forget about you. I also made a new friend, Eren's best friend, Armin Arlert. He wasn't like Eren but he was very smart and nice to me and when he and Eren talked about the outside world, they let me join them too. It was fascinating enough, I guess, and we were very happy with each other." At the back of her mind, a voice chided her for being so childish, talking like toddler to a room in an abandoned shack in the middle of nowhere. She ignored it.

"That went on for a year and then the Colossal Titan appeared. He was taller than the walls and was strong enough to kick down the gate. When he did, a part of the rubble crushed Mrs. Yaeger's legs in our house and she was eaten by one of the smaller Titans who came in. I wanted to cry for her, but Eren was so affected and I had to be strong for him the way he was strong for me when I was weak, so I didn't. Wall Maria was also destroyed by the Armored Titan and we were forced to retreat to Wall Rose. After a few years, Eren decided to go into Military Training so that one day he would be able to avenge his mother. Armin wanted the Titans gone too so that no one would have to feel the pain of losing their grandfathers again. I joined because I wanted to protect them both, especially Eren.

"When we graduated, it turned out that Eren could transform into a Titan at will and there were a lot others who could but wanted to catch him because he could control other Titans. These people happened to be the friends we have made during Training and we were all forced to fight one another. And then we learned that the Ape Titan was forcing them to do it so that he could use Eren's power to rule the world, cutting them away from home and not allowing them come back until they had him. So many other things happened in between then and now but the Ape Titan is dead, the Shifters have gone home, and all of our friends are safe and sound."

She paused. There were fireflies outside, drifting lazily and flashing tiny lights as if singing to each other. She watched them for a while then blurted out, "I miss you." She gasped, surprised by her own confession before the tears started coming. The light of the fireflies began to blur.

"I miss you. I wish I could tell you about the praises I received at the Academy. I wish I could tell you about my rival, Annie Leonhart. I wish I could tell you about my first Titan kill. I wish I could tell you about how my friends relied on me to help them. I wish I could tell you about my first real injury, when I got my ribs crushed. I wish I could tell you about how Levi-heichou appointed me as his second-in-command. I wish I could tell you about Squad Mikasa – don't laugh at me, Dad, it's true. I wish I could tell you about the Final Battle and I wish I could tell you about my being a hero. I wish I could tell you about Connie, Sasha, Jean, Historia, Levi-Danchou, Armin and Eren. I wish I… I miss you."

She sat on her chair, sobbing unabashed. She didn't bother to wipe her eyes or stem the flow of her nose. Everything piled up, one on top of the other: the times Eren scolded her for trying to protect him, the jealousy she felt whenever Eren looked at Annie, the desperation and fear that gripped her heart when one of her comrades got hurt or were about to get hurt, the frustration she felt when she wasn't able to do anything about it, the sight of the dead bodies, the smell of the rotting corpses, the fear of losing Eren, the only family she had left, forever. It wasn't fair, she thought. None of it was and she didn't bother to comfort or scold herself into stopping. She let it all out, sparing no tears or gasps for breath, letting the sadness wash over her, filling the hollow spaces in her heart and possessing her like the dark of the night possessed everything the stars and the moon refused to shine on.

When she finally finished crying, it was still pitch-black outside but the moon was beginning to lower itself to the East. Still not bothering to wipe her eyes or nose, she whispered "I don't need to tell you two." The fireflies out the window hovered breathlessly, hanging on to every word. "I don't need to tell you anything because you have always been there with me. Right?" But she didn't need to answer the question, she already knew the answer. She smiled and closed her eyes. "I love you." And then, as if the night had heard her, a warm gust of wind wrapped its arms around her shoulders, stroking and rumpling her hair and kissing her forehead, lips and cheeks, filling her lungs with something that she could only describe as bliss before blowing out into the night.

Mikasa sat there for a short while, treasuring and memorizing the light sparkling in her chest before realizing that she didn't need to, that the sensation would come and save her whenever she felt lonely or troubled and that it would never ever leave her. "It's alright," she whispered to herself. "It's all alright now." An owl in its roost hooted in reply.

She shut the windows tight and, making sure that the faucet wasn't dripping, pushed back her chair and crossed the living room. She walked out the door and locked it, gave her keys a final un-tinkling jangle and put it under the mat. Then she untied her horse from its post and rode south-east to meet up with the others, her mother's little embroidery box tucked safely in her arm.


	3. Fly

**Fly**

**Author's Note: **This took me a day to conceptualize and literally more than eleven months word and edit. It sucks a lot less than my first draft though, so I think it's worth it. Please see the author's notes of my other stories for explanations regarding the canon inaccuracies (if any) in this work.

This is equal parts angst and fluff. Both categories may be described with the word _very_. I'm proudest of this one so far, and I hope it makes you smile. Rated T for Eren's language.

This one's for Isayama-sensei for all the laughs, feels, mindfarts and badass awesomeness he's brought to my life in the span of more or less 365 days. _Arigatogozai sensei ni kansha!_

* * *

When they get to the ocean, the sun hasn't risen yet.

The Scouting Legion or what was left of it – meaning the Fourteenth Commander, Levi and the Special Operations Squad, now headed by Mikasa – has been riding three days to the south, past fields after fields of unkempt grass, past recurring patterns of the same old forest trees. Rest stops for tense meals and troubled sleep had only been seven in total so far and not a single person has had much rest at all during the said times. Words had been barely exchanged during the whole journey, no one had dared to comment on how everything they have passed so far they had already seen in the desolation that was Wall Maria – a Titan footpath here, a wandering herd of familiar animals there, and growing wildly all around them, the same species of plants that thrived within the Walls. Even hopeful Armin found nothing worth stopping for and investigating, and every time they set up their mark on their nightly campsite to let the rest of mankind know that they had been there, the blue and white wings against the green of the flag seemed to jeer at them, prompting them to rush everything they did and hurry on to finding something, _anything_, to lighten the weight of the sacks of dust on the last supplies wagon.

So when the scent of the air changed from blood (_Shut up, don't think like that, _they whispered to themselves every now and then since their first step out the lat Wall, _shut up, shut up, shut up_) to something entirely new and Eren heard what he imagined the snoring of a Titan would sound like nearing dawn on the fourth day (the longest time they spent sleeping since leaving Shiganshina was six hours which applied even to Connie and Sasha who usually required twelve), Eren almost laughed in relief over the prospect of something _new_.

"What is that?" whispered Historia once the last horse and cart skidded to a halt at Levi's wordless signal. In the absence of pounding hooves and rattling wheels, the enormous sucking, swishing sounds seemed closer, more alien, more menacing.

A sniff, sniff, sniffing sound behind Eren to his right. "It smells a little like fish," remarked Sasha. "But less stinky." She took a long drag of the chilly predawn air through her nose: "Lighter and… _free-er_, somehow."

Eren didn't know if she was making terrible joke in a misguided attempt to ease the tension or not but a wind came and he learned it was the latter – there was no other word he could use to describe the scent that drowned his lungs. He tugged at his cloak, tasting scarlet from the nick on his lip as his teeth chattered in surprise out of the sudden drop of temperature. Rubbing his hands, he became aware of how everybody's horses had huddled closer to his, their riders tensely loading their gears' handsets.

"On full alert, all of you" ordered Levi, dropping from his horse and unsheathing his blades. "Three of you brats come with me. We'll scout ahead and check it out. The rest of you stay here and wait for our signal."

"Yes sir!" they cried in perfect unison. Promptly leaping off his horse and giving her a grateful pat on the nuzzle, Eren stretched briefly, made a running leap and shot a wire into a nearby tree after Levi, glad to give his saddle-weary rump some rest and set the rest of his body to much needed work. Flying on his gear in coordinated spurts of gas, he didn't feel nearly as cold with the sturdy pulse of solid purpose boiling in his blood for the first time in days.

Green eyes scanned the dim foliage, eager to latch on to anything suspicious or foreign, deeming it safe to ignore the figures maneuvering at the corners of his sight. A hushed rendition of his name reached his ears, and the brunet was almost surprised to catch a familiar glint of muted sunlight some distance away, fainter than ever in the darkness. Blue spheres like the pictures of the ocean in that old book they used to read together sparkled as Armin closed in on his best friend's left. "Armin!" the taller boy hissed back, gaze warily taking root on their commander's advancing back. "Why didn't you stay back with the others? What if this is an Aberrant or something worse?"

"But what if it isn't?" Armin murmured back, eyes wide. "What if it's something no one's seen in a hundred years? What if it's something from Grandfather's book?" The blonde's tone was high and expectant, wanting the other boy to feel the same way as he did. He didn't.

A voice from his right saves Eren's thoughts from falling somewhere dark and oppressive. "Boys," uttered Mikasa, skirting a branch and flipping through the air to zoom in on her two friends. "Focus. We have no idea what lies ahead. Between here and there, we might end up getting killed by something else entirely."

"Lighten up, Mikasa!" Armin countered, beaming. "It couldn't possibly anything worse than Titans, right Eren?"

Eren started, wishing the smaller boy hadn't put him in this position: both his friends were eying him, waiting for an answer, willing him to take their side and not the other's. He gulped.

Personally, he wished that it _was _an Aberrant they were dealing with, one with a respiratory system who sweated some odd-smelling liquid or otherwise perfumed steam (_Hange-san would be so happy- shut up!_), another Titan for him to overpower, torture and slay. He hadn't the faintest as to why he couldn't get himself to think of his initial reason to break free from the Walls – try as he might to dissuade himself, he couldn't help but connect this to the unsettling sensation in his stomach – nor why he was wishing for the source of all his previous miseries to exist once more. _I'm going mad, _he thought to himself.

"I, er-" he began. "Well, I'm not saying only one of you is right, but- I mean-"

"Hoi!" Levi called out from in front of them, angling his body to give them all a half-hearted glare. "You're supposed to be out on watch. You can chat once we've killed it, or otherwise given it what it deserves. And we're getting closer." They were. The forcefully whispered breaths had by now turned into a positive din, and they no longer needed the wind to get a whiff of that curious, intoxicating smell. "Just because you made it through a goddamned war, doesn't mean you're invincible. Really, I expected better."

"Yes sir," said Eren immediately. "Apologies."

"Tch." The older man turned away, his wires weaving through multiple branches like it had a mind of its own. And then, in the careless tone of someone inadvertently letting slip a secret, he muttered, "If any of you seven die now after everything… I'll personally kill you myself."

All the light in Armin's eyes crumbled away into nothing and he hid them and his expression away in shadows of the dying night. Mikasa fingered her red strip of cotton to raise to her face and breathe through, maneuvering closer to her brother's side. Eren felt cold.

The last part had been a joke of course, told in Levi's usual disdainful approach. Eren had been around the man long enough to find instances like these endearing as he understood that this was the man's way of trying to make things better for those around him, one of the rare windows that showed his caring aspect. But now that gesture went by almost unnoticed as that first phrase rang in the trio's ears…

_If any of you died now after everything… after everything…_

Eren's face fell after an attempt to scowl. He should be grateful, shouldn't he? The Titans were dead, the Walls had no use anymore, and he and all of mankind were free to conquer the rest of the world. Everything Eren and his comrades had ever dreamt of, fought, bled, and made excruciating sacrifices for was being shoved down their throats for them from a silver spoon, but…

But. But. _But. _It didn't _feel _right. None of it did. There wasn't supposed to be a "but" at the end of that sentence!

"I can see a clearing up ahead," said someone with his commander's voice. "If I see nothing on the ground immediately, we'll land in a circle. Prepare to fight."

"Yes sir!" all three recited.

Eren crushed his thoughts the way he would dislodge birds nesting on his hair. This wasn't the time to be sentimental, and the only thing he could feel about that fact was gratitude. Whatever was ahead, if not a Titan, had better be something that required their utmost attention.

"Here we go!"

Eren maneuvered in a way that forced his body to face the shadows he abandoned in breaking through the trees as Mikasa and Armin flew ahead of him, facing to the left and right respectively. He tightened his grip on his swords and allowed his line of sight to scatter everywhere: above him the sky was an indigo specked with dimming stars, to his left and right was the same color although slightly lighter at the edges, and below him was… was that _snow_?!

_Damn it, this isn't the right time to be curious! _"Land now!" Levi yelled. Eren took a hold of himself and touched down into practiced formation, blades raised and body taut. He felt Armin and Mikasa take their places next to him but he kept his eyes on the forest they have just left, hyper attentive to anything and everything. The insistent birdsong that had colored their hearing was all but murdered by the clamor ahead their group and Eren had to scream over the noise for his whisper to be heard. "Danchou! Is it a Titan?"

Silence. "Danchou?" Eren spun his head around, fear fueling his movements with tense briskness, but the man appeared to be just standing there, arms down and looking straight ahead. "Danchou! Are you okay?" He dashed around Mikasa to Levi's side, ignoring her cried warnings. "Levi-danchou! What's wrong? Is everything al-?" His eyes followed Levi's gaze and a gasp forced its way into his throat.

Miles and miles away, the cloud-strewn sky _faced _them fully – Eren could see Armin look up and ahead and up and ahead again and again at the edge of his vision – and they could actually pinpoint the exact spot where it ended. On that strip of land too far away to be seen, a _moving_ inky black clearing began, softly and constantly pulsing like it was alive, bordered by absolute nothing and stretching all the way back to ten feet from where they were standing. Eren watched in dumb awe as the distance became nine feet, eight feet, seven, eight, nine then ten again… the colossal sighs he had heard from earlier were caused by this gentle, steady heaving and pushing that left a white substance on the shore when it peaked, which in turn disappeared when the dark sheets rolled back to repeat the process. Over and over, almost hypnotic, the black tongue charged and retreated the surface they were standing on, which, on closer inspection, looked mildly like rough grains of powdered chalk.

_Rough grains of powdered chalk… _it wasn't until Eren remembered this little snippet an eyewitness used to described the word _sand_ in that little box on the lower-right corner of the right page that supported his favorite spread in Grandpa Arlert's book did he realize they were standing on a _beach_ and the phenomenon placed before his eyes now was…

"The horizon," said Levi. "The ocean," said Eren. Both men spoke at the same time and neither of them had any idea what the other was talking about "'Horizon,' sir?" Eren asked.

The older man looked at him strangely. "It's one of the legends I heard from my first friend," Levi explained, voice and expression softer than usual. "He said there was this mystical land where the sun, moon and stars are born and die in each day. And… Isabel always said if there was such a place… she thought it'd be where the earth meets the sky." He looked back to the visible edge of the world then glanced down as if something bit his feet. "And what's an 'ocean'?" he asked in turn a little hurriedly.

"'Ocean'," uttered Armin, eyes glazed. "'the largest discovered body of water and the only one reported to consist of salt minerals. In reach, it is said to stretch to the very edges of the known earth and/or beyond; its depths remain unexplored and is presumed to be infinite.'"

Levi smirked dryly. "You sound like your reading an encyclopedia on fairytale shit," he remarked.

"I am, sir," replied Armin, still sounding like he was dreaming. "Only… only it isn't a fairytale anymore."

Silence proceeded the boy's reply. For what felt like a few hours, only the waves and the strange waking songs of a new type of birds were heard, falling uselessly on Eren's deaf ears. Staring at the black waters before him, he thought of how he could declaim each of Armin's words by heart six years (had it only been that long?) ago when the vision in front of him now had been the only thing on his mind. He had been such a child then, agonizingly innocent, believing pain was only ever caused by humans acting on their own selfish whims and that evil, although powerful, was the minority in the Walls and beyond.

Snorting at his past self, he never felt so old in his life.

A wind came in and its ice had no mercy. Eren wrapped his arms around himself, stomping against the cold as if doing so would make it go away, but nobody else seemed to notice the force that set the wings on their backs to fly. To his left and right, Armin and Mikasa stood unchanging, staring straight ahead, mouths slightly agape and expressions the epitome of wonder. Meeting this sight, Eren's eyes stung and they stung hard – he didn't know if it had more to do with the shards of melted frost that came in with the chill, or the hot, hot claws that groped at his heart and sent a ball of boiling oil to lodge itself in his throat.

He couldn't look at them, at _it_, at his feet where the sand surrounded his boots. So he closed his eyes, wishing that when he opened them again, he would be back home in bed with the smell of cooking breakfast in the air and the gentle susurrus of his parents and sister in conversation in the kitchen to greet his senses.

"Levi-danchou?"

Mikasa's questioning tone lifted Eren from his musings and he opened his eyes to watch Levi's back retreat into the forest. "I'll get them," he explained. "They should see this too. You three enjoy your moment while it lasts." As the sound of his gear in action faded away into the foliage, Eren wondered if there had been bitterness in his superior's voice when he said that last sentence.

Something vague and fluttery distracted him from his thoughts and Eren finds himself staring at a puff of his own breath, dancing lazily in the icy air as it faded into nonentity. He shivered. Had the names that owned the ashes they'd been dragging along with them done the same?

A cold sort of warmth wraps itself around his hand and he turned to face Mikasa's questioning glance. Sometime during the past year, he had grown to be just an inch shorter than Jean while she hadn't, and none of them had gotten used to the fact that he now had to look down into order to meet her eyes. "Are you alright, Eren?"

_No, _he wanted to answer, but he felt like he didn't deserve to, had no right. "I'm fine, Mikasa." She smiled faintly at him; he couldn't tell by her clouded eyes alone if she believed him or not.

There was a clatter of metal somewhere behind them, and they turned around to find Armin had freed himself from his gear. "Eren," he said, facing away from the water at last, eyes wide and glowing. Already he had discarded his boots, jacket, and cloak, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a hand held out to his friend. "Sh-shall we?"

Eren had rehearsed this scene in his head countless of times when he was younger – after getting over the shock, he and Armin would trip all over the sand in trying to strip themselves of their gear and uniforms in racing to the water, he would grab a not as ecstatic but just as happy Mikasa by the hand and all three of them would charge, laughing, into the water. They would splash for hours on end and taste the salty water before settling down at the water's edge to let the waves cleanse their souls, holding unto each other and crying happy tears as they relished the sensation of freedom.

But if this was freedom – this sick feeling in his gut, this frozen fire in his veins, this silent shrieking in his ears, this endless pit chockfull of hurting and guilt at the center of his heart – then he thought he'd rather live the rest of his life without it.

"You guys go on ahead," he mumbled to his boots, releasing Mikasa's hand, feet longing to get back on solid ground. "I'm going after Levi-danchou."

"But Eren!" argued Armin, closing their distance with impossible speed and clutching the other boy's sleeve as he faced the other way. "It's the _ocean_, Eren. It's the reason you wanted to get out of the Walls, remember?"

"Yeah, well," said Eren. He didn't know how to end that sentence. "I… I don't mean to be a killjoy or anything, but… I'm just- just not in the mood right now." There, that seemed about right.

Armin looked positively horrified. "What? But why not? We've wanted to see this all our lives, remember?"

Eren was starting to get pissed. Why wouldn't they just let him go? "Because," he tried hard to keep his tone even, "it looks like black _blood_," he ended up spitting. "The blood of everyone who died for it." He thought of how the ocean's depths and reach were supposed to go on forever. He struggled not to retch.

Armin and Mikasa stared at him like he'd started sprouting horns. Armin tittered nervously. "That's just because the sun hasn't risen yet," he exclaimed lamely, a nervous smile quivering on his face. "But remember all the pictures? All those shades of blue and green you said matched our eyes? I'm sure once the light hits it, it'll look very beautif-"

"Yeah, well," he cut in. "I don't."

He stared round at them both in their stunned silence, wishing he could knock the stupid looks off their faces. He shut his eyes and counted slowly to ten. When he looked at them again, their expressions hadn't changed a bit. He exhaled slowly through the nostrils. "Look, it's cool, okay?" he tried amending, despite that being the last thing he felt like doing. "Really. Go on ahead and splash around or whatever. I'm just a little tired, that's all. When I come back with the others, I'll join you the moment I'm ready." His sister and best friend exchanged looks, clearly unconvinced. His fake smile twitched.

"Eren," began Mikasa, "you… you don't… _like_ this, do you?"

He wanted them to stop, to shut up and let him go before he said or did something he would eventually come to regret. He refused to face them, shoulders squared and nails lodged into his palms in (not-so-)determined restraint.

"Eren," his sister repeated cautiously, taking a step closer. He willed her to stay away from him. "Is- is this… not enough for you?"

Her eyes were atypically translucent, making it so easy to read that she was begging, along with Armin's blue orbs, for her brother to say "no" and act like it, like the naïve, blind child he used to be six years ago. Something burst inside him. "Well, yes, Mikasa. That's actually _exactly_ what I've been trying to say all this time, because _this shit isn't fucking worth it_!"

Eren was shaking hard, bearing down on them like they were his prey, teeth bared and long suppressed rage crashing about in his guts like wildfire.

"E-Eren," queried Armin, trembling like a leaf. "What do you mean it doesn't-?"

"What do I mean? _What do I mean? _Stop kidding yourself Armin! Look at it! Take a bloody long look at it!" Armin did out of necessity. The water was a darker reflection of the weakening night, stars replaced by the pieces of a giant, shattered mirror which shimmered and shone before sinking back into the oblivion it came from; glass shards embedded onto throbbing flesh like torture that lasted forever and ever and ever… Useless. _Useless. _"Do you see anything beautiful about it, huh?" Eren threatened. "Do you?!"

"Eren, I told you," Armin shot back feebly, voice shaking with pending tears. "The sun- when the light-!"

"WHO THE FUCK CARES WHAT IT FUCKING LOOKS LIKE?" Eren bellowed. "DO YOU THINK I'D CHOOSE THIS- THIS- THIS _PISSPOT_ OVER THEM, HUH? DO YOU THINK I WOULD CHOOSE THIS FUCKING WATER WITH ITS FUCKING SALT OVER HAVING THEM STILL ALIVE AND WITH ME?"

"I never said that, Eren!" Armin weakly countered, water trickling down his face. "I'm just saying that- that- because we've won it, we should enjoy it for ourselves and- and for them too because they're no longer around to see-!"

"AND YOU'RE BLAMING ME FOR THAT NOW, AREN'T YOU?"

"Eren!" Mikasa raised her voice on him in a way he never thought she would ever be capable of doing. "Listen to yourself! This isn't like you! You're better than this!"

"What's going on here?" demanded Levi, emerging from the trees on his horse with the rest of the Squad trailing behind, darting curious looks at Eren. The boy ignored them fully.

"Please don't feel guilty, Eren!" Armin was saying, definitely crying this time, finally comprehending his best friend's concern. "They sacrificed themselves because they knew you're worth it! That you could lead Humanity to victory and fulfill their dreams!" Here, Eren turned away to put some distance between him the rest of the world, but Mikasa held on to his hands, her grip refusing to yield to his struggles. "They had faith that you could win and take the rest of us here- even if given a chance to escape death, they would have _chosen _to die for you anyway-!"

"STOP BEING SUCH A CHILD, ARMIN!" he yelled, tearing his hand from his sister's hold and successfully slapping her arm away when she attempted to follow him. "LIFE ISN'T A FAIRYTALE AND THERE ARE NO HEROES! JUST PEOPLE WHO ARE TAKEN AWAY FROM YOU BECAUSE FATE LIKES HAVING A LAUGH, THAT'S ALL! AND THE MOTHERFUCKING _PRIZE _FOR 'WINNING'-" he ripped the war medal off his jacket and glared at his bleeding finger, flesh visible through the deep gash made by the pin. "ISN'T WORTH SHIT!" He threw the badge with all his might, and they all stared dumbly as it sailed through the air in an arc that ended with a dejected _plunk _into a blackish-blue oblivion. Steam rose from Eren's hand to the purple sky as he swallowed hotly, the lump on his throat moving on to take over his eyes.

"Horror stories don't end in happy endings!" he shouted to no one and everyone, voice rough and strained, eyes dry and wet. He paced up and down, leaving deep footprints in the sand. "War isn't a damn book, it's all meaningless deaths that could have been avoided, and lives that could have been saved! There's no happily ever after, just getting to the place everyone we care for thought they died for, and then it turns out to pure and utter shit! All the earth can't replace them, wishful thinking won't bring them back! _They're gone for no good fucking reason and they're never coming back!_"

His voice echoed without sound through the beach and he glared daggers at everybody's shocked expressions. Slowly, then all at once, his anger dissolved completely as what he said hit him and he found he could no longer keep himself shouting or standing; he no longer had the strength. Eren's knees hit the coarse ground; a fountain of sand erupts from where his fist met the beach, and he wailed through clamped teeth.

"I killed them!" he gritted out through bitter tears. "It's all my fault! If I had been strong enough- if I made all the right choices- if only I'd-!"

"Pull yourself together, Eren!" Jean chided him, voice sounding slightly raw, and Eren was surprised over how Connie cut the taller boy short. "Stop taking it all on yourself! Nobody knows what's gonna happen until it's over! You should be happy you're lucky enough to be still alive and here-!"

"This place!" Eren moaned, ignoring them, eyes and nose running, all defenses abandoned, all restraint forgotten. "This goddamned place! Even if it looks good when the sun rises-! Even if there are others like it-! The flaming waters- the snowfields of sand- the islands of ice- nothing will never replace them- never! And even if we say they haven't d- they're sacrif- fice hadn't been in vain- even if we pretend there's such a thing as glory- as eternal fame- as fucking _heroes_\- what- what's the use of all that if they're all- all- all _dead_?!"

He curled up on the ground in the tightest little ball he could form as if trying the space his pain took up. He mourned with all his remaining might, poured every little bit of his consciousness into savoring the grief, the hurt, and loss. He was broken and twisted, fucked up in every sense of the word by a thousand degrees or more, and for once in his life, he wanted to just stop lying to himself that he wasn't and pretending all was excellent and bearable. Because it _wasn't_, no matter how hard you tried to believe. No matter how hard you strove for things to go your way, no matter how many precautions you take, no matter how much you protected those you valued, you only ever ended up with their blood in your hands. And the fruit of their labors, the bitter outcome that tasted of blood and bones… Eren had always thought the end not justifying the means was just a proverb made by cowards who wouldn't even dare begin but the sand which he'd always thought to be so fine and smooth embedded that merciless reality unto his exposed skin, scratching at fresh

He wanted to die. God, how he wished he were dead.

He cried until his tears ran out, and when that happened, he cried some more, squeezing and wringing his soul of the pain and letting it flow out of his eyes as diamond blood. Unbeknownst to him, the words he had unleashed continued echoing to vibrate in the air, simmering in the remaining soldiers' heads, dark things whispering in their ears. Once they've had enough, they wept with him as well, quietly and openly, in their invisible corners on that freezing beach. No one made a move to comfort the other (even Mikasa stood paralyzed over her love, face buried in the scarf in her hands) each let themselves drown in their own personal vat of pain, permitting the ghosts to haunt them at last, letting the wolves catch up and tear them apart. Only Levi seemed unchanging, refusing to look at his men, head hung low with a shadow over his face and fists quivering.

One forever of hurting passed and the sky had turned a deep periwinkle when a human sound other than weak hiccups and sobs was heard.

"Eren. When you feel like it… sit up."

There was nothing snide in Levi's tone and voice, no sign of looming punishment of any sort. In fact, there was no sign of anything at all, just disquieting emptiness so that if he had been younger, Eren would have thought a ghost had spoken. Shaking in the wind, the boy sat up and hugged his knees, brushing the grit out of his hair. Noticing the movement, Mikasa plopped down and trapped him in her arms like it was the one thing she had been born to do. Her face felt wet on his shoulder. "You ready to listen now?" asked Levi.

He was going to get it, and he was going to get it hard, but Eren could no longer find it in him to be afraid anymore. Drained numb, he jerked his chin downwards.

"Alright. If anyone else is listening, this goes for all of you, as well." Eren looked around for the first time to see that all the others were on the ground as well, hiding their heads in their arms on their knees or seated like he was, slightly raising their heads to listen, hiccuping softly.

"I've no right to call this shit worthless like you say," Levi began, referring to Eren and looking out at the ocean. "but I think I have enough authority to tell you you're wrong." Eren didn't answer. "Eren. On your first expedition… what was the first thing I taught you?"

Eren did not know where this was going and neither did he have the desire to learn. "You- Levi-hei- Levi-danchou told me… the only thing we're allowed to do… is to believe we won't regret the choices we make."

"Aa. You remember. Good. Answer me now, Eren, based on how well you knew them. Do you think, if they were standing with us now, staring at this open space, that they would regret seeing what we're seeing now?"

Eren thought. "No, sir."

"And why is that?"

The younger man looked to his superior. There was nothing that appeared potentially dangerous on Levi's face. "Because," he said slowly, cautiously. "That's… just who they are." _Were, _he corrected himself, _that's just who they _were.

"Aa," Levi repeated. "How do you think they would react?"

This interview had had to be the strangest Eren's ever encountered. "They would… be happy, I guess. Sad for all their falle- f-friends, but… happy."

"Because?"

"Because… it's what they've always wanted… and-" Realization flickered within Eren and emotion returned to him in the form of confusion. The look on his face was what Levi had been waiting for.

"That first advice I gave you applies to your loved ones who had gone away too," he said. "The moment you regret the choices they've made would be the moment you kill them." He turned away again, fingers fiddling with something level with his chest that Eren couldn't see. "Once you believe that everything they fought for means nothing… that would be when you'll know for sure that their deaths have been in vain. That their life's work had been for naught, that their sacrifices had been wasted. It'll be like they never even existed."

Eren tried to imagine a life without knowing his parents, his classmates, his first Squad, his comrades, his friends. He shivered at the thought.

Levi released whatever it was he had been holding and dropped his hand back down at his side. His cloak flowed freely in the breeze, distorting the wings on the cloth. "If this isn't enough for you, that's your problem, not mine. But… that doesn't mean _they'll_ agree with you." Eren couldn't tell if he was referring to his other subordinates or the people they've been previously talking about or both.

He looked out to the endless waters, with its rhythmic currents and legendary salt he still was yet to taste. He frowned. All his life he had lived without it, he could keep going without its existence and so could everyone. "But sir," he tried arguing. "it- it isn't- it really just isn't-"

"Then we'll make it work," Levi barked, facing him fully. It wasn't a request, it was an order. "We'll find a fucking way to make it work." And then, his frown loosening, he said, "You're the Goddamned Hero of Humanity aren't you? Eren Yeager, who thinks with his mouth but is still alive anyway. You'll find a way to fix things." He looked to the side, eyes glazed over something Eren couldn't see. "You'll live on because they need to see all this, and you're gonna be doing it for them. You'll live on because it was their will. And you'll do nothing less than making them proud."

Sparkling clarity blinded Eren, leaving him breathless for just a second. Once more he had a purpose; it was so obvious, so _simple_ that it almost terrified him. Now he had something to live for again, something to use that hole in his life that had been taken up by Titans. He understood what Levi was saying, understood what needed to be done. But the shorter man missed a spot.

He didn't want to complain didn't want to whine to the man that had, in a way, saved his life and whatever it was he was yet to be. It sounded childish even in his own head just thinking about it, but he wanted an answer to a question that had never been said. "That- sir… I may let them live on within me but… that doesn't stop them from being- being- being…"

"Dead," finished Levi "I know." Something, not from within him, stabbed Eren's chest at his commander's words, but he didn't know what it was or why. "But… that doesn't mean we should be the end of them, right?"

Perhaps it was just because his voice was lower and more quiet than the usual, but Eren found himself wondering if Humanity's Strongest had the capacity to be something as futile as sad. "We can do nothing about their deaths. That's just a part of life. But we could continue on living for them. It's better than killing them off forever."

Eren looked into Levi's eyes, paler than ever in the steadily lightening sky. They were often blank, or otherwise forbidding around his comrades; towards oppression, they were either ice, fire, or a mixture of both, a thundercloud calmly waiting for the right time to erupt and unleash its wrath in the tidiest, most savage way possible. Now they were strangely glasslike, brimming with something unspeakable yet soft, powerful yet tired. Behind it all was a brittle sort of light and Eren wondered how old Levi truly was, how many broken dreams and promises he harbored in his heart, how many times everything but his body had to die before finally reaching this point.

Something hot curls around Eren's lungs and all self-pity was forgotten. Here he was, griping over the unfairness of his sixteen years of life when standing before him was a man who lost more than he ever would. He'd never felt more ashamed of himself. "Sir, I… I'm so sorry."

The older man just shrugged. "You're a human, not a monster. You have the right to feel shit when things go in that direction." Missing Eren's point by a mile, Levi walked over to help him up but Mikasa took on his job, jumping to her feet at his first step and pulling her brother to a stand without effort. Levi looked annoyed somehow and lowered his hand. "Don't worry about me, Eren," he said as if reading the boy's thoughts. "But if there's anyone you should apologize to, it isn't me."

Prickly red crept up Eren's cheeks as he turned to the general direction of his two closest friends. Mikasa had let go off his hand and drew back; she and Armin were standing side by side, close but not to close from him expressions hidden by their hair. "Hey," he began, squinting at the ground before them. "I- That was unfair- I-" But they just clung to him before things could get too awkward, cutting off the rest of his speech, and he eagerly returned the favor, more thankful than could be expressed. "I'm sorry," he persisted quietly. "I'm so sorry." They only squeezed him tighter so he does the same and breathes them in.

When the throbbing of his heart had slowed down into a calm, he tried to meet the others' eyes but only succeeded locking on with Jean's. He swallowed, face apologetic. "Jean. Everyone. I'm-"

"Don't," the taller boy replied rather harshly, voice hoarse. "I mean-" He breathed through his nose and looked away. "None of this is your fault." Even with his friends around him, Eren began to feel cold again.

Out at sea, the sky had started to lighten into a pale blue-violet no one has ever seen before. Eren thought that if the shade before him had been mixed with a generous helping of darkness, and if there was such a thing as colors for emotions, it would be perfect for what he was feeling right now. Blank. Numb yet softly frozen. Wishing he could fall asleep and never wake up to emptiness again.

"It's time to let go."

They all faced Sasha, surprised that she should be the one to break the longstanding silence. Her eyes were red but there were no fresh tears on her face. Her smile was weak, but it was true and full of hope.

"We'll open the cages now. Set them all free. Holding on to them'll just drag us and them down, ne?"

Everyone stared at her, letting her words buzz around then snuggle down in their minds. Without a sound, Historia got up, her pretty head down, trudged over to Sasha and clutched at her tight. Connie wiped his nose for the last time and stretched wide; when he finished, his signature look of iron resolve was back in his features. Mikasa let go of Eren and lowered her scarf from over her nose and fixed the way it was wrapped around her neck. Armin and Jean nodded to each other, the latter saying, "Yeah. They… need to be free. They deserve it." As both men looked over to the wagon closest to where they were all standing, Eren felt dread bubble at the pit of his stomach.

The five communal pyres from three nights ago had produced five sacks' worth of ashes that Levi had insisted they took with them, now carefully protected and hidden from the sun and rain in the supplies wagon currently assigned to Jean. Levi never mentioned why they had taken them or what he was planning to do with them, but as his squad looked over to him for permission, he nodded, face grim and unreadable.

Extracting herself from Sasha's arms, Historia led the way, and in two minutes or less, she, Levi, Eren, Mikasa and Jean had each a large cloth bag in their hands, lined up where the water rested by their covered ankles even as the waves came in. The rest hovered close, staring at the containers like they were bars of gold they had had to almost die for and now had to discard in order to rescue themselves.

They stared a little more until Levi's fingers moved undo the seams atop his sack - _snip, snip, snip, snip... _"Shouldn't we say something, sir?" Connie asked Levi. The taller man looked at him as if they didn't know each other. "No," he decided after a pause. "Let's not… make this any harder."

Eren felt his face clench over those words. He looked down at his sack and tried his hardest not to think... Whose ashes were in there? He imagined it was a little too heavy to contain just dust – were the melted remains of Hange's combat goggles there? What about the ashes of Erwin-danchou's left arm which had been, ironically, the only part of him they found? And the belongings of bodies before the Last Battle that never made it home, now grey powder… Thomas' chess set, the one he used in teaching Eren to play chess, Petra's wedding dress which she made and finished in secret but never got to wear, Hannes' best Vanguard jacket, the one without a single stain of wine on it…

Eren shut his eyes, refusing to let his thoughts wedge their way into his heart; he was not about to throw another fit. He tore the seams open the upper seams of his own sack, hands trembling, watching the others for the signal, and he was just about to tip the remains of his family into the infinite waters with the others, when…

An impossibly powerful gale attacked them from behind, taking them by surprise and shoving all of them forward. In the confusion, Eren let go of his sack but so did everyone else, and even as the silver powder started falling into the ocean, the wind picked at each little speck and tossed it away, the sacks twisting behind like worms on pack of salt.

"Wait! No! STOP!"

Eren made a wild leap forward, terror squeezing the life out of his heart for a reason he couldn't find. He wasn't ready, he will never be ready, _and yet the Titan already had his mother in its hands but he was miles away,_ Mikasa and Armin were restraining him, preventing him from taking another step into waist high water; _he struggled and reached out his right arm until it hurt but Hannes won't let him go_ he wanted to shout, but just like last time, _he couldn't say a word,_ and the sacks were twitching _like his mother, limp and broken,_ ripped open, _crushed between its teeth_ and Eren could do nothing but watch _as the blood _as the ashes

_started _

to

_fly_.

nonononononono— No?

no. no. no. n-"EREN!"

And Eren woke up, mouth open, breathing stilled, heart pounding; he couldn't tell when exactly the tears got into his eyes. Mikasa had been the one to scream into his ear, propping him up with Armin; his face was between theirs but facing the opposite direction, staring hungrily at the silver dust and cloth ghosts waltzing away from them like drunken butterflies: going, going, going… gone away from them forever.

Warmth trickled down Eren's face and he screwed his features up tight, striving to shut everything out. Body numb, he let Mikasa and Armin half-guide, half-drag him back to shore where they held him tight, arms clamped around his trunk and faces pressed against both his shoulders. His arm was still stretched forward, but not as taut as before.

_I'm sorry. _Something weighed on his forearm and forces him to lower it, his efforts to keep it held up were proving worthless. _I wasn't enough. _Finding he was too weak to keep trying, he clenched his hand at his side. _I wish I could change things. _But he was tired, so tired of resisting, pushing, fighting… he undid his fist and let a choked sob leave his mouth in the form of a shuddering sigh. _I'm sorry._

He couldn't hold on to them anymore, physically or emotionally. He needed to let go, _needed _to, but he was so afraid of forgetting, of letting them slip away from his mind and heart forever just like that without so much as an assurance that they were going to be alright and at peace whether they have forgiven him or not. Forgiveness – oh, how he craved their forgiveness, but infinitely more than that, he just wanted to make sure they were okay. That they were somewhere better than the hell they'd left behind, that life (if any) for them was a little easier, less cruel, maybe even beautiful.

But Eren didn't know, could never know, so he just hoped, even though hoping could never change anything.

There was nothing else he could do about it.

"G-good-" He couldn't do it. "Goo- goodb-" But he had to.

He inhaled deep. He would stop being selfish, he would be brave for them. It was the least he could do. He felt his heart shatter violently as he raised his head. He will say it, he _will _say it. He will set them free. "Goodby-" He opened his eyes.

Light, blinding and pure, struck him very carefully. Somehow, in the part of his brain that stopped working the moment he saw what was in front of him, he knew that light of that strength should at the very least force him to blink or turn away, and yet he could _see _every glowing beam, every tiny fleck of clearness in the air in front of him. The sky had turned into an ocean of auburn, interwoven folds and ripples of white and red and gold in hues as numerous as the stars to paint the sky at night. Years later, when he told the story to his grandchildren for the first time, Eren could no longer determine if it had been the slowest sunrise he had ever witnessed or if all that had happened then had occurred in a matter of seconds stretched to last forever by his mind, and if his reactions had all been performed physically or had all just been in his head.

There were people at the edge of the world, illuminated by the rays of the sun, and each and everyone of them had been waiting for him (Eren did not know how he came to know this, he just did). Suddenly, he – or his mind, anyway – was flying closer, at least, that was the only explanation he could give over how he could see every little detail on each person, each stitch of clothing, each wrinkle of the face, each line on their lips as they smiled.

One by one and all at once, Eren saluted and thanked the soldiers, men and women in jackets with roses and unicorn patches over their hearts, with wings over their backs like his. Some of them he knew by sight, name, or the briefest of passing glances, such as Mike-Heichou and other squad captains and team leaders, participants of all the expeditions he ever took part in, the faces at HQ that had been his home for almost a year, the Garrison members who defended him in the Sealing of Trost, the MP's who helped in retrieving him during his first kidnapping, and the hundreds of Scouting Legion, Stationary Guards and Military Police members who bravely took part in the Final Battle. The rest were complete strangers, also proudly wearing their respective uniforms, yet Eren felt an inexplicably strong connection to a chosen few, almost all members of the Scouting Legion: a waving pale blonde man with dark blue eyes wearing what looked like a prototype of the 3DMG; a young man with matching dark auburn hair and eyes and a serene smile, holding hands with the only civilian in the group, a wide-eyed blonde girl who curtsied to Eren; a waving, cheerful-looking girl with ginger pigtails whose eyes perfectly mirrored Eren's, jumping up and down next to a young man with pale brown hair, a foxy smile and oddly familiar grey eyes that gave him a wink; and a saluting, freckled girl with a single dark braid down her back and a notebook clutched over her heart.

Someday, Eren knew, he would meet with all of them again, know their names, hear their stories. Someday they would not just be his comrades but his friends, but for now, he just bowed to his fellow fighters, superiors, and all those who had come before him and fought for the cause he and his generation fulfilled. He offered them all the victory they shared and his beating heart as homage, praying it would be enough, and altogether they saluted back at him before gently disappearing in the light of the sun.

Familiar faces he hadn't thought of in six years swarmed Eren's sight and in recognizing who they were at last, he laughed: there, across the world and on their way to the sun were the people that had populated his innocent world before That Day, the neighbors, classmates, vendors, his father's clients, his mother's friends from her little knitting circle, and the passersby on the streets of the Shiganshina of his childhood. Eren had long forgotten their names but he knew each and everyone by sight: his mother's old tutor, who ran the looms that produced the scarf that saved him and sister more than once; the father of a poor family who always managed to press a secret, grateful penny into Eren's hand when they passed each other on the street because he was the son of the man who saved his children's lives; the golden-haired lady at the bakery, whom he had brazenly declared he'd marry someday when he was four (looking at her now, he sheepishly realized that they were as old as each other; they said farewell amiably but that didn't stop him from going red when she sent him a flying kiss he swore he could feel against his lips); his grumpy, rheumatic arithmetic teacher, who sent his dogs after him and Armin that one time they tried stripping his orchard of its apples in the dead of night as revenge for cruelly humiliating Mikasa the first time she came to his class, among hundreds of others familiar smiles and grins. His classmates, all still ten like the time he last saw them, looked positively in awe with his mature appearance and his uniform (or maybe they were just ecstatic over the prospect of there being no more homework forever and trying were to let Eren know), as were all the bullies he ever had to battle - had he really been smaller than them when he was younger? – all shamefaced but smiling shyly at him. On the other hand, Grandpa Arlert, who might as well have been his own grandfather, just took one good look at him and laughed heartily – Eren remembered how it was the old man's own faded green cloak that first inspired him to wear a set of wings of his own one day – and after they exchanged salutes, the man mouthed, _Thank you for taking care of my boy._ Eren promised that he would continue to do so until the end of time.

He waved them all goodbye with a sincere smile on his face; he had outgrown the grudges he had long forgotten anyway, and all he could feel for everyone now was affection, grateful that they had been the ones who shared the peaceful times with him, grateful to know that after he'd put away his hiking boots to turn in for the night one last time, they would be the ones to greet him a good morning once he joined them all again on the streets of Forever.

Marco, Mina, Thomas, Franz, Hannah, and all his other classmates were together, whooping at the sight of him and cheering. Eren thought he might have laughed along too and yelled out the words, "Hey! All of this," (here, he tried to hug the whole sky and thrust it out at them) "belongs to you guys! So own it! Own all of it! And don't you dare try and forget me, the Suicidal Bastard of the 104th Trainees, or I'll kick your asses to the moon once I get there!" Everyone laughed harder and mindless of his tears, he presented them all his heart; in response, they each offer him a piece of their own to keep next to his forever. There was nothing to fight and fight for anymore anyway, nothing left but the world they've all yearned to taste and touch, and Eren was glad to think that his friends would be among those to experience the miracles ahead of him and the others.

His first squad mates stood together, side by side, beckoning to him all at once. Oluo's eyes and nose were running wildly when Eren found him, but he immediately tried to stem the flow and put on a scornful face when he realized his subordinate's eyes were fixed on him. Eren failed to repress a nostalgic laugh over the reaction, and was relieved when the other man's façade broke off completely, grinning like a madman and swiping fist beneath his nose with an _Oh, fuck it. Good job, boy! Well done, Eren! _Eren thought he looked so much better like this, natural and true, and as he saluted the new man in front of him, he thought of how he couldn't wait to friends with the real Oluo Bozado.

Gunter and Eld applauded him, sending him a heartfelt salute each and enough thumbs-ups for Eren to store in his memory and remember whenever he needed a boost for every low day and everyday of the rest of his life. He bowed to them over-extravagantly with much tossing about of the hands, remembering the first inside joke the two men ever shared with him, and all three guffawed and promised each other more funny tales in the future.

Petra's face was shining with tears when they found each other again. _Good work Eren, _that's_ my Eren, that's _my _Eren, _she kept repeating, beaming so perfectly he started crying again, wishing he could rush forward and have her rumple his hair once more. It was a splendid mix of the smile she gave him whenever he was confused, uncomfortable, humiliated or frustrated, and the one she had given him the first time he won a spar against Oluo, mastered an advanced maneuvering technique only the original Squad Levi had knowledge of, or simply made it through one of Levi's more brutal training exercises; the smile that made him puff his chest out in pride and want to run to their old castle's highest turret and announce to the world that Petra Ral trusted him and saw him as her friend. He blew her the best flying kiss he could muster and she received it with a laugh, sending him her own which he felt against his heart.

Hannes was fully sober yet happier than Eren ever saw him drunk when their eyes met. Their farewell was short yet meant so much: Eren yelled out his thanks for every time and everything, the two men saluted, bowed to each other, Hannes sent him a thumbs up through a tearful grin and mouthed _I'm proud of you, Eren. _And for Eren, until the time he could touch the man again and embrace him at last with his all, it was more than enough.

Commander Erwin was laughing in the most natural way possible as he waved Eren goodbye and it didn't occur to the brunet that it was strange how both the man's arms were intact. Hange was the most comical of all, jumping higher, waving wilder than the rest put together with a thunderstorm on her face, shouting out her soundless jubilation all the while for him to embrace and relish. Eren could just imagine standing before their proud forms, Erwin patting him on the shoulder, Hange squeezing him until he couldn't breathe. He only sobbed his happy tears harder, excited for the day he could finally show them what they were to him with rank and professionalism out of the way forever.

And at last, at the very edge of the line of friends and loved ones was a man looking proudest of Eren than everybody else put together, smiling a smile that was meant for his son and his son alone. In one of his arms, standing straight as a pin and not at all crushed or broken, was a woman who looked just like her child, crying tears of raw happiness and opening her arms in welcome. Eren ran to his parents, and he was just a little boy again, lifted up into his mother's arms and clinging to her tight, kissing her face while his father held them all together in his arms. Nobody said a word, there was no need at all, and when Eren resurfaced from his mother's shoulder, he realized that he was tall enough to let _her _bury her face on _his _shoulder, and that he only had to incline his head a tiny bit to look his father square in the eye. Carla held her son's face, caressing his tears away, and he in turn took her hands in his and kissed the top of her head. Grisha heavily rested a hand on his son's shoulder, squeezing as a single tear glistened down his cheek. Eren threw his arms around him and gripped him tightly at last – he had waited too long for this moment, and now that it was here, he knew as he always had that he could never have enough. Eren loved them, loved them both so, so much, and as he kept them close to him for one last time, he knew within his soul that there would never be another moment in his life that will make him feel as loved as he was now.

It was a goodbye, the last he would ever have to say. But it wasn't a goodbye either. Not really.

"Thank you," whispered Eren. "I love you. Goodbye." As all of his departed family sprouted wings around him, his own heart took flight in his chest.

…

Eren blinked and realized the perfect, golden circle before them had fully risen, resting on top of its liquid bed, smiling serenely at the morning. He could no longer look at it without blinding himself so he set his eyes a little lower, focusing on the afterimages slowly fading in his head.

"D-did you guys just-?" Connie had begun to ask. But Historia instinctively clamped a hand to his mouth to make him stop so he did: it didn't feel right for them to be talking about what had just happened.

Hesitating as he glimpsed into his comrades' eyes, Eren turned away quick once he found the wordless confirmations he had expected to see behind them: they had all seen _something_ when the sun begun to rise. Perhaps not exactly what the other person saw, but the brunet could tell for sure that each scene had been enough to liberate the darkness in their chests and replace it with light. Why else should circular black, grey, brown and varying shades of blue and amber appear so aliveand at peace?

For a few blissful, quiet minutes there was nothing in the air but the sounds of the forest and the beach finishing waking up and greeting each other a good morning, the waves lapping soothingly against the shore like it was singing a song without words. It seemed like the sun had burned away all the shadows in the land of the unseen, leaving Eren's soul lighter than it ever had been in his life. He knew it was only a taste of the joys to find him throughout the rest of his life in liberty.

"It's beautiful," declared Mikasa after some time with uncharacteristically breathless abandon. And she was right: after the pure joy on the faces of his loved ones who were now freer than any bird in the sky, the ocean at sunrise was the most beautiful thing Eren had ever seen.

"Free," murmured Armin, sounding like an angel, looking almost ethereal in the sun's beams. "We are all_ free_." And they were. Every single one.

When Armin's words finally sunk in within them, they all broke down at once – even Levi openly unleashed one tear and a genuine smile – and Eren was very much laughing and crying at the same time, squeezing an ecstatic Mikasa and Armin in his arms and kissing them without stop. Save for the Commander, everyone was shouting, whatever they were saying made no sense but that didn't matter; embraces went all around along with pats on the backs, high fives, and every other gestures of endearment they could spare each other through a constant flow of tears. Eren broke free from his best friends to accidentally call Levi "Onii-san!" and embrace him (the man was too stunned to reply, only managing to go rigid and blush over such shameless display of affection from his favorite underling, and nobody else knew of the elated tears he had to repress over knowing someone alive still felt that way for him); not waiting for a response, he sprinted over to Historia to lift her up, spin her around, then kiss her on the nose when he set her down; he tackled Jean into a fierce hug, stood on tiptoes to rumple his hair and after a short display of surprise, the taller boy returned the action completely devoid of any inhibitions; he made a grab for Connie as the shorter boy was charging at him so that they almost fell to the ground and Sasha did not hesitate pull them both into her, grab their hands and dance them all around until they fell to the soft sand in a heap, laughing.

"The water!" Armin barely managed to gasp out loud over Historia's death grip. "The water!"

They remembered and everybody ran and tripped on the way while tearing off boots, jackets, cloaks, and gears, Mikasa cheerfully tugging on Levi's hand just a little ways behind and forcing him to abandon folding his clothes, and for a good quarter of an hour, all crying was replaced with splashing and running in the midst of teasing, threats, squeals and more laughter. Once the last tickle war ended and the last wet revenge executed, they flopped down in a line and let the waves wash over their spent bodies, sighing in blissful aftermath as the colors of the new world around them lazily settled down into a tranquil, soothing blue.

"So what now?" Connie asked after a whole five minutes of silence. Hand in hand with Armin with his head on his best friend's shoulder, Eren had began to wonder the same thing.

"We enjoy this," said Sasha, stretching like an upright cat and lying back on the sand with a gentle _thump_. She made a little sand angel before closing her eyes with a grin and saying, "We enjoy every little bit of it." Sighing in agreement, Mikasa laid her head on Eren's lap and he instinctively caressed her silken hair. Trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, Connie leaned back too so that he was lying next to a snoozing Sasha, making a face at Jean's pointed look and squirming mouth. Historia giggled.

"Aa," said Levi. "There's just… there's just one last thing we- I need. To do." He cleared his throat and they all stared. It wasn't everyday that Levi stuttered, and when he did, it was usually about something that were beyond his expertise of destruction and death. He rose, his undone cravat flapping in the wind, and, not bothering to dust the sand off his pants, hiked a few steps to the general direction of the forest, scooped up something from the sand, and faced them all with his cloak in his hands. He watched it swaying in the wind intently before breathing deep with closed eyes. "I'm not telling you to do the same," he began when he remembered them, speaking slowly as if struggling for the right words to say. "but I… I'm letting these wings go."

They continued observing him in silence. Was it the unfamiliar lighting of a new morning, or did he look mildly uncomfortable under all their gazes? "Erwin, Hange, Pet- everyone who fought for what we have now all wore these on their backs too. But… there's no need for them anymore. The wings I mean. They've fulfilled their purpose. It's time to set them free."

On any other day, they wouldn't understand what it was he was trying to say. But today they did, though not in words for the brain to comprehend: the notion just felt right to each their hearts. One by one, they rose and marched or picked their way through discarded pieces of cloth, leather and metal, dripping wet and sober, towards their own symbols of office draped over the sand.

Holding his in both hands and staring, Eren could no longer remember how green his cloak had been when he put it on with pride for the first time one year ago – had it really only been that long? – but he was quite sure it hadn't been the color of drying grass then, green this close to frying under the sun into a crisp, dead brown. In dusting it, his calloused fingers brushed against the rips, mostly at the edges, all carelessly sewn to an uneven close or patched up in large, hurried stitches, and the burn marks from all those times he had to transform on countless expeditions gone awry. The emblem itself was undamaged, though, still austere and relentless like everyone else's, still shining with unwavering hope for a future now fulfilled.

He studied the way the wings in his hands rippled in the morning breeze as if calling out to the sky in its attempts to finally unfurl and sail away to... where exactly? Oblivion? Infinity? Or just somewhere that wasn't here and now? Worry snuck into the crevices of Eren's head. What was out there in the wide, wide world? Would it better than the one they were never returning to? Or the opposite? What if what waited for them was worse than Titans? What if there was just more evil, more deaths? What if-?

_We'll get to that someday, _Eren thought to himself. _We'll know all in good time. _He breathed deep to calm himself and the scent of liberty set his mouth into an unconscious grin. They would be okay. No matter what was ahead. As long as they were together, it will all turn out alright in the end.

He followed them all to the very edge of the beach where the foam of the currents caressed their bare feet. He still hadn't gotten used to how shifty the sand was, but he had already learned it was steady enough to support him if he planted his feet in properly and stood straight and tall.

He looked out to the ocean that shared the blue of Armin's eyes, and its end, or what looked like its end. Someday, he would reach it after a lifetime of trying, that place where the sky meets the earth. Someday he would be whole again, in the arms of everyone he loves. Someday, he would finish with this world and begin his quest for the stars, but between then and there and the time and place he was in this moment, there was life and the open world – wonders to discover, dangers to enjoy, adventures to take part in, reasons to _live _and live for with his friends, his family. Standing with Eren were the people who shared all his scars and wouldn't mind helping him heal, the ones who wept with him, fought with him, hurt with him and triumphed with him, the ones who comforted and spurred him on when he wasn't enough, who believed him with all their hearts when even he himself couldn't. They were the reason he was still alive, and they will be his reason to keep on living – he would protect them as they had protected him, mend them the very best he could until they were not whole as before, but infinitely better than they could ever hope to be again now.

He cherished them, he loved them – Connie, Sasha, Jean, Historia, Levi, and Armin and Mikasa – and gratitude filled Eren to the brim that they had been the ones whom he had the privilege of holding on to through it all, the ones whom he would share this new, beautiful world with. He realized now, as he should have a long, long time ago that he was finally, truly home.

"Thank you," he said. And they all smiled at him.

Wordlessly, Humanity's Wings of Freedom held their arms out, and their cloaks twitched nervously, excited for whatever was ahead. A wind came up from behind them and, wishing the same wordless hopes, they let go together, tucking a fist behind their backs and resting the other over their beating hearts, saluting for one last time the wings that flew over the ocean and were lost – or perhaps it was home – to the horizon forever.


End file.
